


A New 4:44am

by tiny_juniper_kid



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, because this is tooth-rotting fluff, fake astronomy, i hope you have a good dentist, i'm a sentimental bastard ok, idol! yongguk, junhong isn't actually in this he's just an offscreen son to yongguk, like it's painful honestly, no beta we die like men, this is also SUPER old, yongguk is a Tired Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24432580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiny_juniper_kid/pseuds/tiny_juniper_kid
Summary: Tiny lil shot of domesticity with bang yongguk because i love one giant quacking manorone of my classmates said artists shouldn't date because we're all too pretentious and, like, yeah, they weren't wrong,,, but for some reason, my brain said "make a yongguk fic proving it wrong" and here were are
Relationships: Bang Yongguk/You
Kudos: 2





	A New 4:44am

**Author's Note:**

> hello i'm june and welcome to the first written thing i ever completed, i think, since writers don't know how to finish anything ever. anyway sorry for being a soft mess

People say that creatives should never be romantically involved. That there's too much ego and too much passion that'll ruin a relationship. Especially so if they're creatives of the same discipline, such as each being fine artists or musicians or writers.  
It's a rather unfair and incomplete assessment, Yongguk thinks. He considers the hard work you and he put into your relationship. It was tough, for sure, many arguments that would almost boil over; but as passionate as you both were about hours composing or painting or touring or showcasing, you both had a greater passion for making things work. Quite simply put, he didn’t want to be without you nor you without him.

"Ugh," Yongguk laughs tiredly, taking a hand off the wheel to rub at his fatigued eyes. Sappiness was becoming as much a habit as his late nights at the studio. Granted, his own studio was much closer to home. However, it was getting some renovations and Junhong was more than willing to help his hyung out with his own studio... from the next town over. Thus, the even later night--well, morning.

A byproduct of being a creative is an almost-guaranteed insomnia of some measure, so both Yongguk and you would often be creating in the wee hours. It didn’t help any that you and Yongguk had been living together long enough that your sleeping habits had invariably adjusted to sleeping next to each other. This isn’t an issue itself, except nowadays you two rarely were in bed during sane sleeping hours and so one would have a hard time sleeping without the other, then you are getting up to create. It was a vicious cycle.

Yongguk checks the dash, seeing that he was on the verge of missing the entirety of what you referred to as 'the Sacred Hour.’ Yongguk smiles, remembering the conversation.

_"What the hell is the Sacred Hour?"_  
_"The Sacred Hour, you non-believer," you sniffed, arms crossed, "is the hour of 3am."_  
_Yongguk let the silence stretch and dropped his head to signal an explanation, knowing it would rile you up._  
_Indeed, you sighed dramatically as you sidled next to him on the couch. "3am is the Sacred Hour because if someone stays up until 2am, that's not that weird; they just stayed up real late. If someone wakes up at 4 am, that's early but not unheard of."_  
_Y/n talked with their hands, something Yongguk enjoyed a lot because he liked to think that you were so passionate about everything that it spilled out of your hands while you talked._  
_Yongguk had grabbed both your hands then, moving with them. "Ah I see, so 3am is an hour that everyone should be sleeping?"_  
_"Yes! Because if you’re up until 3, you’re crazy. If you wake up at 3, you are also crazy."_  
_"Well then you're a heathen too," Yongguk had argued. "You're up during the Sacred Hour almost as often as I am."_

The lights coming in from the streets change position in the car and Yongguk jerks the wheel quickly, swerving back to where he's meant to drive. He still has a good measure until the sidewalk, and the roads are barren at the moment, but still… close call. Muttering, he quickly calls your phone, putting you on speaker. He knew you’d be rather put-out with him if he was found in a ditch from falling asleep at the wheel.

You answer after three rings.

"Did you get it?" Your voice chimes softly into the car, lighting up Yongguk's face with a sleepy smile.

"I did, actually."

"I knew you'd be able to," you respond confidently. “You’ve been stressing about this song for so long, it seemed like you’d get it _this_ time around.” Your voice is still soft but not from sleep.

Yongguk exhales deeply, both surprised and unsurprised he was holding his breath until you answered. He'd hoped that if you didn’t answer it would mean you were sleeping. But he also hoped he wouldn't disturb you if you did answer. You had indeed answered the call. Easily.

He frowns, "have you been awake, babe? You sound rather... cognizant."

He hears you snort, sounds of things clacking together before a tinkling sound of something against a glass. "You should hope for such a gift if you're gonna call me at this holy hour. Haven't we discussed this already? And what if I were asleep and you woke me up?"

Yongguk smile returns. "Fair enough. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

There’s a pause that has Yongguk wincing lightly. "You almost fell asleep while driving again, didn’t you?"

Yongguk didn’t know whether to laugh or apologize profusely. He chose the latter but with a smile.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Bang Yongguk,” you grumble through the phone, but he knows you’re also smiling—if only in relief. "It’s just as well,” you continue. “I was actually just thinking about you, you know."

"Yeah?" Yongguk asks.

"Yeah," you reply.

"Nothing too naughty without me, I hope." Yongguk teases. It’s half-hearted though; as enchanting as you are, sleep sings a stronger siren’s song tonight.

"Oh please, we both know you're too exhausted for that,” you retort, voicing his own thoughts. Yongguk laughs quietly, unable to stop smiling. Maybe it's the lack of control due to sleep deprivation that has him giddy. But he doubts it.

"Tell me about your day," you ask, taking your job seriously in keeping him awake. You sound distracted but Yongguk trusts in your ability to talk, listen, and paint at the same time.

He tells you about seeing Junhong again and how nice it was since it had been a while. He tells you about one of the other producers that brought her dog in and how conflicted Yongguk was about playing with another dog. You assure him that Tigger wouldn't mind since "he loves me more anyways." You ask about Junhong’s latest projects. He tells you about how your text around noon reminded him he needed to eat, earning him your verbal praise. You don’t scold so much as chide Yongguk for accidentally skipping dinner because he knows you can hardly afford the hypocrisy despite still worrying about him. Yongguk tells you about as many details—trivial and otherwise—of his day as his beleaguered brain can muster, both because it really is helping him stay awake but also because he knows you are genuinely interested. You hum to signal you’re following, you add commentary when he goes quiet, and you laugh your wonderful laugh wherever you want.

He’s parking in your shared apartment’s car lot when he finishes, being as quiet as possible despite the early commuters already being out and about.

"It’s almost getting light out, y/n.”

“Indeed,” you murmur, far more distracted now that Yongguk finished telling about his day. “You’re not wrong, Mr. Bang.”

“Why don’t you go to bed then?”

“Nah it’s already morning, I couldn’t possibly go to sleep now,” you counter, faux indignation in your voice. “What would the neighbors think if I slept the day away?”

Yongguk climbs the final set of stairs before reaching his and your floor, palming the apartment key as he makes a steady pace to the door.

“I doubt you’d care, but if you insist. What are you painting?"

The tinkling sound comes again, and Yongguk recognizes it as you tapping excess paint thinner off your brush. Rather than diving back in though, you pause. "What I am painting and what is painted on the canvas are two different things, actually."

Yongguk chuckles, familiar with the wild ride that nocturnal creativity can take you on. "Is that a bad thing this time?"

He can hear your smile through the phone, can almost see it now that he’s through the front door, shoes toed off, almost to your makeshift studio.

"No, no not this time. I rather like what I've got here, now that I think about it."

“Yeah?” Yongguk asks, opening the door.

“Yeah,” you reply, and he watches you swirl a dozen or so more brushstrokes before putting your paintbrush down.

Yongguk sees you in all your late-night painting glory, which in actuality is a mess. The button-up you put on when painting has a some more flecks and smudges than last he saw, your hair streaked with some paint as well. Your legs and feet are bare, as is custom when you paint standing up, which you are. Your reading glasses—which Yongguk insisted you get since you refused to step down from your own late-night habits—are perched on your head, half-hidden in your paint-riddled hair. The glasses are probably the cleanest things on you at the moment. You have the phone call through your earbuds so Yongguk approaches softly but confidently. He notices Tigger on his dogbed and gestures for him to stay quiet. The dog is unimpressed.

You lean back to assess your work, stretching. The painting is quite sentimental. The angles and lines are soft and the colors have a lighter value. Yongguk can see the barest traces of darker paints submerged beneath the more recent choices on your plexiglass palette. Two figures are twining about each other on the canvas and Yongguk is glad he’s awake to see you finishing it.

Making sure to place his head well to the side of your shoulder (as he’s well-versed in your sudden jerking when surprised) he tugs your earbuds out and wraps his arms around your waist, murmuring a simple, “hello.”

“Hey yourself,” you reply, post-startle. You lean your head back and relax into his hold comfortably. He can feel your accelerated pulse at the shock of his appearance and it makes him laugh.

“It’s rather… pink,” comments Yongguk, surveying the painting with intrigue.

“It is, isn’t it?” You reply equally intrigued. “A smear of white got on my brush while I was painting a dark red area—that one there—and I quite liked the direction it went in, so it stayed. It’s much… lighter than what I’d originally planned.”

Light filters into the apartment as the neighborhood wakes up. The fractured light makes the painting glow.

“I like the direction. It looks… relieved, almost? Content, if that makes sense.” Yongguk says, face scrunching. He was a fan of visual arts to be sure, especially your own, but he was still fuzzy on the lingo when talking about it.

“Content is a perfect word for it. Maybe I’ll make a ‘content’ series!”

Yongguk feels the smile you make as it presses against his own.

“Jeez what time is it?” you suddenly ask, reaching for your phone but Yongguk beats you to it.

“4:44am,” he answers quietly. You take a breath and look outside. You look back at your phone clock. You look outside.

“There’s no way that’s astronomically correct.”

“Oh yeah that’s not the sun,” Yongguk comments, kissing your furrowed brow. “It’s definitely Mrs. Song in the building directly across from us doing her “Rising Sun Yoga” or whatever the hell it is with the giant lights, and it’s bouncing off all the other windows.”

You laugh as you sign your name on the bottom left corner of the canvas. “Well in any case, it’s quite the bright 4:44am for us. More than we’re used to, wouldn’t you say?” you ask. Yongguk hums in agreement.

“Y’know, I think I like the direction of this 4:44am as well,” he states as you return back into his arms.

“Yeah?” you ask, slow smile spreading.

“Yeah,” Yongguk reply, kissing your cheek.


End file.
